


Burn It Down

by Itsallfine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Anal Sex, Bottom John, Firefighters, John's Danger Boner, Jolto, London Fire Brigade, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top James Sholto, it persists through all possible universes, needy demanding bottom John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsallfine/pseuds/Itsallfine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Firefighter AU Jolto smut. That is literally it.<br/>Written for Vanetti for the smutty santa fic exchange on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn It Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vanetti (lereya)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lereya/gifts).



> Written for my dearest Vanetti for the smutty santa fic exchange on tumblr. Happy Christmas, dear!
> 
> If you need helpful visual aids, [click here for hot pictures of firefighters](http://www.boredpanda.com/french-firemen-calendar-2016-pompiers-sans-frontieres-fred-goudon/). Thanks to cakepopsforeveryone for the super quick and dirty beta.
> 
> With apologies to the brave folks of the London Fire Brigade.

“Blue Watch Manager Watson of Station Alpha 23, engine 504 returning to station.”

John released the radio’s push-to-talk button and shot a grin at Bill over in the driver’s seat as he waited for the reply.

“Acknowledged, 504. Job well done,” the dispatcher replied.

“Ta ever so, Dispatch. 504 out.” John replaced the radio on the dashboard and flopped back in his seat, the rumble of the vehicle’s massive engines sending pleasant tingles through his body. Adrenaline still pumped hot and electric through his veins, leaving his skin hypersensitive and his hands restless.

It had been the perfect sort of fire call; no casualties, a challenging but not overly long battle with the fire, and a daring rescue that involved crawling through the burning building to save a little boy and his pet turtle. None of the terrible trauma they all occasionally dealt with, just the danger, excitement, and pure rush of doing battle with a force of nature. John was half-hard in his pants, keyed up and high on the rush, desperate to rut and come and feel _alive_. With any luck, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

Traffic was kind to them, and the engine pulled into the station only a few minutes later. John leapt down from the front passenger seat the second they came to a stop, just in time to see Station Manager James Sholto’s vehicle pull in beside engine 504.

“Watson,” Sholto called out. “My office to debrief, please.”

John tucked his white Watch Manager’s helmet under his arm and tugged the zipper of his fire jacket down, letting it hang open to reveal the sooty, sweat-soaked white vest underneath. “Yes, sir,” John replied without hesitation. “Be there in a moment.”

John took a few minutes to stash his gear and make sure his watch crew had everything in order, then he hobbled to the Station Manager’s office as fast as he could in heavy fire trousers with a cock that was rapidly coming to full hardness. He knocked once at the door, then opened it without waiting for a reply.

James was on him the second the door clicked shut, pinning him against the heavy wood with his hands on John’s hips. John tipped his face up, desperate for James’s lips, but his commander held himself back just out of reach while he looked his fill, lingering on John’s flat, hard stomach where his vest disappeared into the heavy black fire trousers.

Those intense blue eyes had been the first thing to capture John’s interest the day Sholto had taken command of the Euston Fire Station. John had never been with a man before without being massively drunk, but he was on his knees for James less than a month later, stone cold sober, and he’d never looked back. And he couldn’t look away now as James took one strong hand off John’s hip and moved it to his jaw, cradling the back of his head and threading his fingers through John’s short blond hair.

Another second, a hesitation, then James pulled John’s mouth up to meet his in a searing kiss that John felt with every cell of his body. He groaned, fighting alternately to strip himself of his vest and to put his hands everywhere he could reach on James’s body. James chuckled into his mouth and gently took over, slipping John’s shirt off and dragging him back to the desk by the dangling straps of his PPC trousers.

John hadn’t felt quite so hot and desperate in weeks. His skin was _crawling_ with want, every touch a tight spot of heat. He writhed against James’s body, rutting against his leg and dragging their torsos together with no particular care for the sweat and soot he left behind on James’s duty uniform. James took it all in stride, as always, using a firm, commanding touch to maneuver John until he was bent over the desk. Sometimes it was James that needed handling, needed to be coaxed with tongue and teeth and hands into relaxing, giving up command, but today John felt _electric_ , ready to fly apart at any second unless James could hold him together.

And so John fought with the clasp on his fire suit trousers, dragged them down along with everything else underneath, and held onto the desk for dear life. He gasped and bucked as James’s bare erection ground against him, sliding up the cleft of his arse. James talked him through it in a constant flow of low, calming words: “Such a brave man, such a hard worker, so good with the crew, so gorgeous, so hard for me.”

John trembled with anticipation when James reached for the desk drawer, slid it open with one hand and rummaged within. A click, then cool lubricant landed in three fat, wet droplets in his crack, on his cheek, on his hole. James ran a finger through it all, humming in satisfaction.  “You come in here, every time, wanting it so bad, needing me, yeah?” he said, circling a finger over John’s fluttering entrance.

“Yeah,” John panted, thrusting back against the teasing touch, desperate for the contact. “Yeah, god, I do, I need it, James, please. God, I need it so bad tonight. Fuck me.”

A stinging smack landed on John’s left arse cheek right as James’s finger pressed inside his hot entrance, and John bit back a frantic moan that would have alerted half the station to their activities.

“I will,” James promised, his voice steady, the tempo of his breathing the only signal of his own need. “I’ll fuck you just the way you like it, John, I promise.”  
  
A second finger joined the first, and John was so desperately aroused that he nearly came when those long, narrow fingers found his prostate. He cried out, hiding his face in his arms to muffle the sound.

“Do it, do it, god,” he babbled, rocking back against James’s hand, loving every pang of the stretch. “I know you want it. You play it so cool, but I know what you want, James.”

A third finger, a slight burn, then John was fucking himself steadily on James’s hand, panting hard and loud. James groaned softly behind him.

“Of course I want it,” he said, one hand running up the long curve of John’s spine as he slipped his fingers free. “I always want it, though I know I shouldn’t. How can I not?” The click of the lube cap, a slick sound, a faint gasp. “You gorgeous, filthy thing, laid out for me, needing me, how can I not? You torment me, walking around this station every day, no one ever suspecting. But I can’t help but see it.”

John craned his neck around to watch over his shoulder as James lined himself up, the blunt head of his cock pressing at John’s entrance. He grabbed two handfuls of John’s round arse cheeks, circled his hips a few times in a tease that left John chasing his cock with desperate thrusts of his hips, then _finally_ slid home, sinking deep into John’s arse in one long push. John let out a desperate, ragged moan at the feeling of finally being filled, a moan that was echoed a bit softer in James’s lower voice.

“God, yeah, that’s it,” John gasped, pressing back to help his body adjust to the stretch. “Go on, move, James, do it!”

James hummed deep in his chest, then drew out and pressed in again with a slow, long slide, running gentle hands along John’s back. John growled his frustration.

“Come on!” he demanded through gritted teeth. “You planning to stand there all night?”

“I might,” James replied with another slow stroke.

John shivered all over, his hands clenching tight at the desk under him. He felt wild, like he was ripping at the seams, ready to fly apart at any second. _God, I need it, I need it, I—_

John slammed himself back on James’s cock with a shout, pressed back hard and circled his hips, the repeated it, again, and again, increasing the pace until his arse was bouncing on James’s hips, impaling on his cock over and over again.

“Yeah, take it, Watson,” James said, low and assertive, his hands ghosting up John’s sides. “Take what you want. Tell me when you’re ready. I’m here when you need it.”

John shifted his stance for better leverage and shoved back harder, already feeling the tight coil of his orgasm beginning low in his gut. God, it was so good, was always so good with James. James understood him, knew what he needed, never judged or backed down. John trusted him with his life, with his heart, and always with this, with his pleasure.

“Now,” John gasped. “Fuck!”

Without a second’s hesitation, James grabbed John’s hips in a bruising hold and pounded into him, hard, exactly how he wanted it. John bit down on his left arm to muffle the constant keening cries spilling from his mouth and dropped his right hand to his cock, smearing the precome and jerking himself furiously, chasing the spark of pleasure just beyond his reach. James’s panting took on a ragged tone, as it always did when he neared orgasm, pouring straight from his lungs as a desperate “ _Ah, ah, ah_ ” that drove John wild.

“God, James— I’m—”

John broke off with a hoarse cry, the rush of his orgasm stealing the breath from his lungs. He shot all over the side of James’s desk and the floor below, a rush of warmth flowing to every fingertip and toe as James thrust once more, twice, then filled him up with his own hot release. James’s moan was quieter but no less ragged and needy, and he gasped as he slipped free and tipped his forehead to rest on John’s damp back while he caught his breath.

After a moment, John stood and stumbled, turned to put his arms around James’s waist.

“Got what you needed?” James asked, placing a row of gentle kisses along the line of John’s shoulder.

John hummed in contentment and nudged James’s cheek with his nose until the other man brought his mouth down over his.

“Yes,” he replied. “Always.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [librarylock](http://librarylock.tumblr.com).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Cover Art] for Burn It Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6785086) by [justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffyholic/pseuds/justacookieofacumberbatch)




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